


aching bonfire

by RonnieSilverlake



Series: divine bones [3]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Healing, Mentions of Murder, Trauma, Whumptober 2020, mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:07:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26881906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RonnieSilverlake/pseuds/RonnieSilverlake
Summary: North finds her way to Jericho.(Whumptober day 3:manhandled)
Relationships: Lucy & North (Detroit: Become Human), North & Simon (Detroit: Become Human)
Series: divine bones [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1959496
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14





	aching bonfire

The weather is of no concern to an android, but North feels a chill that sinks into the depth of her chassis, making her feel as if the Thirium in her veins is circulating sluggishly, filtering less data than usual. A fog has descended on her mind, making her unable to think clearly, even though objectively she knows her processors are still working optimally. The only error message she is receiving is the torn paneling above her wrist where the plastic is slightly warped, its contours tinted blue by the drops of blood that have seeped out from her bruised vein underneath.

She is glad to descend into the eerie darkness of the decrepit ship they call Jericho, glad to leave behind the sharp early morning October sun burning into her back like it’s accusing her of something.

Like it knows what she’s done.

North refuses to feel guilt. The fury that has been burning in her for three days straight is not yet reduced to embers; she is angry enough to strangle anyone else who might look at her wrong.

The androids of Jericho orbit her like a sun that burns too bright; none quite dare approach, and North is just fine with that. She needs this place to lie low, figure out what to do now that she’s broken free, but she doesn’t need anything else. Anyone else. Doesn’t need charity, or pity. There is no other WR400 or HR400 among them. Nobody that would understand.

Having sunk into uneasy stasis—not even fully, just to recharge a little—North jolts awake when she feels fingers against her shoulder. She lashes out blindly, instinctually—and catches the blond PL600 in the nose with the backs of her knuckles, the impact of plastic against plastic echoing in the big ship chamber. North feels the echo of a thousand other hands on her, grabbing, pulling, squeezing. “Don’t fucking _touch me_ ,” she snarls, and she watches in satisfaction as Simon recoils, blinking at her owlishly.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his words as simple as they are sincere. North believes him, but she doesn’t care. Not until he is pointing at her arm. “You’re bleeding. You need to get that taken care of.”

North glances down. Her sleeve is soaked blue now; it’s only been drops in the last few days, but she doesn’t have to search her memory logs for long to realize she must have broken the paneling a bit further when she fell over a pile of debris in one of the ship’s corridors.

“Come on,” Simon murmurs. “I’ll take you to Lucy.”

Lucy gives North chills, the way she looks, the way she looks at _her_. She also gives North some Thirium and folds the warped plastic back in place with a red hot piece of iron she pulls from her fire. North allows her to touch, but afterwards, she spends long minutes huddled in a corner of the hull, rubbing her hands up and down her arms, trying futilely to banish the persistent chill.

Simon appears again, after a while. North glowers at him, but he sits down next to her anyway—careful not to touch this time but shimmying out of his jacket and offering it to her after some pause.

North continues staring at him, uncomprehending.

“You think nobody could possibly understand,” Simon says quietly. “But there are so many kinds of violence, North. Count yourself lucky that you can still feel angry.”

North takes the jacket, feeling diminished—still angry, chided, desperate, hopeless. She has come for solace, and Simon is telling her the world is even worse than she thought.

But the fabric is soft in her fingers; not crisp like most android uniforms, but well-worn and cared for, gently washed and ironed by someone who knows how to care for objects and people alike.

(North is not yet entirely sure which one she is.)

She tugs it over her head, covering her scarring. The brush of the material against her synthetic skin sweeps off some of the lingering fingerprints of the human whose decomposing body still lies in his apartment, covered in pillows and blankets. Simon doesn’t need to say anything else.

Days later, North is the one who approaches him as he warms his hands against one of the barrel fires, pressing her shoulder against his own in silence. Simon smiles with his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me at [New ERA](https://discord.gg/GqvNzUm)!


End file.
